Blame It on the Bachelor Party
by janeywrite66
Summary: Kurt CoBlaine future fic! Blaine/the boys at the bachelor party before his marriage to Kurt. Written as a looooong one-shot. Enjoy! R&R, please. Rated for...um a little language? Better safe than sorry.


**Author's Note: This one-shot fic was written to fulfill a prompt on the glee fluff meme on LJ. I am still working on **_**Complications and a Gleeful Cyrano**_**, but **_**Sexy**_** made me so depressed that I needed to jump in the future a little bit and remind myself why I even like this couple. Then, the kiss happened and I got sucked into reading other people's stuff instead of writing my own. Whoops. I will go back to updating the other story soon, I promise. I hope you like this—it is simply future Klaine—so it doesn't fit into the universe of my other story, but rather attempts to stick to canon (i.e, I used Anderson as Blaine's last name since that what it says on IMDB, etc).**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or its characters.**

2023

Blaine and Kurt were perfectly happy with their life. Sure, they'd surprised a lot of people by moving to midtown Atlanta instead of New York after graduating from college, but they were almost ecstatically happy there. The opportunity with Turner Entertainment had been a dream job for Blaine, since he got to combine his love of both sports and old movies in his position as an entertainment programming executive. Meanwhile, Kurt had opened a small boutique in Virginia-Highlands where he not only had a fantastic reputation, but also gotten to know his clientele well and formed close relationships with some of the more powerful women in the country. They both loved their apartment, a meticulously-kept-by-Kurt slice of 1930s bungalow living, complete with white-washed fireplace and built-in bookshelves. Their neighbors were almost universally friendly and many of them were also gay, an environment that helped Kurt, in particular, blossom.

However, now that their twelfth anniversary was coming up, Blaine was nervously practicing a proposal. He loved the life they had built together, but wanted to take the next step. Marriage had been legal across the country for a few years, but he and Kurt had continued to cohabitate and call each other "partner" instead of legally binding themselves. Blaine hated to admit it, but some of the southern habits had rubbed off on him. He wanted the commitment; the pride that could come with calling Kurt his "husband" instead. So here he was as Kurt busily prepared dinner down the hall, sitting in the bathroom and practicing his speech for the thousandth time in the mirror.

"Kurt," he told himself seriously and quietly in the mirror, "You are the biggest miracle in my entire life. From the day you first snuck onto campus our junior year, you took tiny pieces of my heart. By the time we finally found each other and agreed to date, you were my entire world. Our lives together since that moment have been amazing. You have filled every crack in my heart, smoothed every hurt from my past, and helped me realize my full potential. I love you with my mind and soul. Please do me the honor of being my husband?"

Blaine shook his head in frustration. Even though he had written this speech out and practiced it at least a hundred times and even run it by David, who gave it his full approbation, it still seemed to be missing…something. Words couldn't seem to encompass all the emotions—pride, joy, fear, excitement, and more-that bounced around inside him when he thought about a commitment to Kurt that would be recognized by everyone from the mailman to the President. It had seemed unattainable when he and Kurt had gotten together, where now it was practically commonplace, but it would never cease to be a miracle in his head.

"Blaine," Kurt called impatiently from the kitchen. "How long does it take to change out of a suit, for God's sake? This fish will be completely overcooked in about thirty seconds!"

"I'm coming," Blaine called as he quickly pulled off his unbuttoned shirt, pulled on a soft cashmere sweater, and changed his suit pants for soft flannel ones. Kurt loved fashion, but he had long ago accepted that "sloppy casual" was a necessity for Blaine to relax after the stress of his days at work. Blaine's hand hovered over the sock drawer where a black velvet ring box nestled, but he decided to wait another day, since Kurt was already frustrated with him.

"It smells fantastic, hon," he stated firmly as he walked through the short hallway towards their kitchen. To his surprise, the room was empty. "Kurt?" he questioned and poked his head through to the formal dining room that they usually reserved for dinner parties. The candle-lit vision inside the room made him gasp quietly. A white linen tablecloth covered their round Henredon table, and a stunning centerpiece of apples and low-hanging tulips filled a clear glass bowl. Candlelight was reflecting around the room, and the plates at their usual places were filled with food that looked like a magazine cover come to life.

"Hi," Kurt said softly and walked into his field of vision, coming closer to press a warm kiss onto his mouth. Blaine returned the kiss enthusiastically while he frantically tried not to gape at his partner, but it was a Tuesday…he wracked his brain, trying to remember if there was an anniversary of some sort hiding in his consciousness.

"Baby, this is amazing," he finally offered. "Are we celebrating something, because I hate to be a stereotypical man, but…" His words faded as his gorgeous boyfriend dropped to his knee.

"I hope we're celebrating," Kurt murmured throatily. His eyes filled with tears, and Blaine immediately dropped to his knees as well to hold his cheek comfortingly.

"What is it, Kurt?"

"I love you, Blaine Anderson." Kurt looked down at the floor and then hesitantly took Blaine's hands in his own. "In just three months, we will celebrate twelve years of being together, and they have been the best part of my life by far. I would really like it if you would, um, marry me on that day." A blush crept across his cheeks. "If you want to…"

Blaine leaned forward and kissed Kurt, hard. "Baby, I would love to. You beat me to the punch yet again."

Kurt looked up so incredulously that Blaine couldn't help laughing. "Go check my sock drawer and see what I mean?" he suggested. Kurt shook his head.

"No. I want to stay with you. I'm so glad you said yes, Blaine. I…" With a small smile, he leaned forward and kissed Blaine again. "I was afraid to mess us up."

Blaine nodded emphatically. "Believe me, so was I." Disentangling one of his hands, he stood up and pulled Kurt along with him. The two men stood, clinging to one another as they had so often over the previous years, until a "ding" went off in the kitchen.

"Crap, that's my cake," Kurt moaned.

"Go get it," Blaine said happily. "I'm starving. After we eat, we can call our families. Then I'll show you the gorgeous ring I bought for you."

The wedding was in three days. Although Kurt and Blaine lived in Atlanta, they had decided to return to Ohio for their ceremony, which had the benefit of allowing most of their friends to attend without huge travel expenses. Blaine's mother had generously offered the use of her backyard, and Kurt had planned every detail of their dove gray and lavender-themed ceremony meticulously, with the help of Carole and Mercedes. Blaine had argued that their rehearsal dinner should take place at Breadstix, since that had been the site of their first date, but had been emphatically overruled by the wedding planners. That was why he put his foot down about the bachelor party. Finn, Puck and Mike had all been incredulous when they heard Kurt wanted a moratorium on the "ridiculous idea that people need to say 'goodbye to single-dom' like getting married is the end of all fun and joy in their lives."

"But dude, you're both guys," Puck protested. "It'd be like—epic. We could get into so much fun crap, even if the strippers would be completely uncomfortable…"

Mike didn't say anything, of course, but he shook his head sadly.

Even Finn seemed bummed, so Blaine decided to (gently) stand up to his groom-to-be. "Honey, I think it's a good idea. It's not about celebrating our last days of singleness—it's about having a low-key evening with old friends and a respite from the stress of the wedding. You've been working so hard; don't you think we deserve the time off? And I promise," he stared menacingly at Puck, "our friends would never do something as tacky as hire a stripper."

"The last thing I want is for both of us and all our friends to be pasty and hung-over in our pictures," Kurt stated firmly.

"Sweetheart, if we go out the day before rehearsal, we will be fine by the wedding," Blaine pointed out reasonably. He wrapped his arms around his partner's waist and pressed their foreheads together. "I can't remember the last time I saw David and Wes to just grab a beer. Please?" he murmured, turning their faces away from their friends so that it was a quiet conversation.

Kurt sighed heavily. "If you and the boys want to go out, I will lift my ban for you. I still don't want to go, though." Suddenly he brightened. "Maybe I can talk the girls into a high-school –style sleepover at Mom and Dad's. We can give each other manicures and gossip! That way I can make sure everyone's nail polish is appropriately neutral."

"That sounds great," Blaine agreed quickly. "I'll take the guys; you take the girls, and we'll even have an old-fashioned wedding night, since I'll sleep in the guest room while you hang with the girls." Kurt just raised his eyebrow, and Blaine laughed. "Well, it will be as much separation as I'm willing to endure, even for our wedding."

"Still sounds pretty modern to me," Kurt whispered. "But I'm glad we could compromise…I love you."

"I love you too," Blaine breathed back.

"Ok, break up the PDA, dudes," Puck interceded. "Are we having a totally awesome double bachelor party or what?"

"Sadly, you'll have to make do without me. However, you and the other Glee Neanderthals can have a party with Blaine on three conditions," Kurt announced in his normal voice. "Number one, absolutely no strippers of any stripe _or_ gender. That includes transsexuals, Puck. Number two, you have to let Blaine invite David and Wes, and you have to be civil. And number three, if my fiancé comes home unable to clearly define his sexuality due to excessive alcohol, I will cut off all your balls. I want absolutely no identity crises on the eve of my wedding. Are we clear?"

The boys all nodded solemnly, and Kurt smiled. "Have fun boys. Provided it's clothed and legal, of course."

Finn grinned. "I have to go call Sam and Artie!"

Blaine smiled too. "I should call David and Wes, too. I think Wes was going to fly in tonight anyway, but it's better to check."

Mike and Puck looked at one another. "Ready to go organize a bachelor party?" Puck asked. Mike nodded enthusiastically.

The next night, Mike, Finn, David, Wes, Blaine, Puck, and Sam were all piled into Finn's ancient minivan and driving to an undisclosed location in Cleveland. Artie was meeting them…wherever they were going. The guys had insisted that Blaine needed to be surprised.

"Why couldn't we just have this at your apartment, Finn?" Blaine asked curiously.

Puck snorted. "Yes, tripping over old pizza boxes and sitting on uncomfortable folding chairs is just so much fun. Dude, it's a bachelor party, not a typical Friday night. We just sat around and played Halo when you were home at Christmas, remember?"

"I'm just happy Lyssa let me come," David smiled. "After our Vegas incident I thought Wes had gotten me banned from bachelor parties for life."

"What happened," Sam asked curiously. "Were there insane strippers or something?"

Blaine shook his head no. "Oh no, Wes just decided that it would be fun to get into a high-stakes poker game because of his awesome 'ability to hide behind an impassive face,' which theory ended horribly with us all splitting a ten thousand dollar debt five ways. You would have thought we'd remember from high school that it only takes two beers and a shot to turn Wes into a very giggly, very indiscreet man."

"Lyssa almost killed me," David agreed emphatically.

Sam whistled under his breath at the amount they'd lost while Puck just grinned and mouthed "lightweight" to Wes.

"I would love to defend myself here," Wes said with a touch of his old high-school pomposity, which instantly melted into a grin, "but honestly, I can't. And by the way, David, Lyssa's reaction was rather mild compared to my beautiful bride-to-be's face when she discovered our bank account balance on our honeymoon…"

All the guys laughed, imagining Wes's frantic explanations. "We're here," Finn announced abruptly. The cheesy neon sign read "Duets" and Blaine raised his eyebrows as he saw Artie and…Santana (?) waiting for them impatiently outside the bar.

"This place is so awesome," Puck exclaimed. "It's got karaoke and dueling pianos. You know what that means—ND/Warbler diva-off."

The group clambered out of the car and went to meet their friends.

"Hi Artie," Blaine greeted the man and shook his hand before raising an eyebrow at Santana and leaning in for a hug.

"Whatever, you know that partying with you is much more my style than girly manicures and syrupy gossip," she sighed. "Besides, Kurt may have made me promise to keep an eye on you. He thinks I have a better shot of talking my way out of jail than any of you because of my…" she glanced down.

Finn laughed. "No one's getting arrested, Santana. I'm DD and Dad would kill me."

"Whatever, you all know I'm going to keep this party from being completely lame." She flounced towards the entrance, knowing from years of experience that the men would follow. They always did.

It wasn't the craziest bachelor party by a long-shot. Blaine, Wes, and David almost brought the house down with their _a capella_ version of Dave Matthew's _Lover, Lay Down_. Not wanting to be out-performed, Puck and Finn dusted off the Acafella's _Poison_ with Artie filling in ably for Mr. Shue and Mike adding some sick dance moves to the choreography while Sam looked on, confused. The dueling piano performers took over for an hour or two before the karaoke opened back up, and the group of old friends sat around and talked about jobs, families, and the upcoming wedding with the ease of familiarity. It was a pretty sweet night out, and no one had gotten into a fight or anything, even if Puck was pretty wasted and Artie's head was starting to loll slightly to the right. Blaine knew this had been a great idea.

When the karaoke started again, Finn had long ago finished his one beer for the night and happily filmed Blaine's slightly hysterical reaction to being draped across one of the pianos with a beer while Santana serenaded and snuggled against him to Billie Holiday. The video got instant text approval from Kurt and Mercedes. When Blaine's legs were shaky after _that_, it didn't really register with Finn to be worried. He'd been watching Blaine all night, and other than a couple shots, he'd just been clinging to a big beer stein decorated with blue and red glitter and a bird that David had brought with him into the bar. Finn stopped. That didn't seem right. They'd been here for _hours_…but he couldn't remember Blaine with anything other than the beer glass after their initial round of shots.

"You are so tall, Finn," Blaine laughed breathlessly as he made his way back to the table, stepping gingerly over his stretched out legs before moving around Puck making out with some blonde and Sam and Mike slamming tequila shots to find his seat. Blaine picked up his beer stein and sipped gratefully. And the beer level was DEFINITELY higher than Finn remembered before the performance. Warning bells started clanging in Finn's head. Those words were just a little too familiar from high school.

"So, uh, Blaine," Finn began gingerly, not wanting to jump to conclusions, because at the moment "magical re-filling glass" was running through his head and that couldn't be right. "That's a pretty cool glass. Is it, like, something to do with your old school? Because you guys were some kind of birds, right?"

Wes came and grabbed the seat next to Blaine and nodded seriously over his martini. "We were the Warblers, and that mug is a tradition dating back to 1967. Well, it's been replaced a few times because drunk people are clumsy, but the "bottomless beer mug" for bachelors before their weddings is a sacred custom that we would NEVER fail to fulfill for Warbler Blaine."

Finn felt a little stupid and wished he could blame it on the alcohol, but he wasn't even buzzed. "How is it bottomless? I can see the bottom from here."

Blaine hiccoughed as he took another swig and flashed the bottom at Finn again. "It's the duty of all former Warblers to never allow the bachelor to see the bottom of the beer glass until the end of his bachelor party. Man, when David got married, I thought he was going to have to pass out before we stopped filling that thing up. He has a high tolerance. I bought him 3 or 4 beers myself, and there were like, ten of us there."

"To be fair, it's a big glass," Wes pointed out. "A regular beer just fills it like half-way, to keep the bottom covered."

"Oh yeah, thanks for buying me the same beer all night," Blaine said, dropping his head affectionately on Wes's shoulder. "Remember Jeff's? I don't think Corona and Guinness are supposed to mix like that."

"Oh ew," David chimed in. "I think it curdled or something. That was disgusting."

Well, crap. Kurt was going to KILL him. Finn had failed at his step-brotherly protection duties. He brightened a little at the thought that Kurt was going to be pissed at Santana, too, though. "So, um, how do you know when the party's over?" Maybe he could stop this from getting too far out of hand.

"I wanna dance!" Blaine bounced up and started bopping around. Too late. David winked and slid out of his chair to go buy the bachelor another round.

"Whenever the groom decides, because it's his night," Wes gestured widely. "Or passes out…" he added thoughtfully.

Santana's voice echoed through the bar as she shrieked with laughter and pulled her top over her head—then immediately burst into tears.

"We're done," Blaine came back dejectedly. "I hate it when Santana starts crying. It makes me feel like I have to be protective, and then I just lose my buzz." Finn tried hard not to sigh with relief as the guys simply started gathering their things.

Artie rolled over to Finn. "Hey man, San and I brought a cab here, so I'll call another van and we'll take all the Columbus folks home. That'll leave you with just Puck, Mike, and Blaine. Sound good?"

Finn thought about maneuvering everyone back into the car and nodded fervently. He was especially excited to get rid of David and Wes, because he was sort of pissed that no one had warned him about the bottomless beer thing.

"Warbler Blaine," Wes called impatiently across the bar to where Blaine was quietly rocking with Santana and rubbing her (now clothed-again) back, "please return the bottomless beer mug." Blaine waved it helplessly from where he was trapped by Santana's hysterics, sloshing his new beer over the side.

"I'll get it," Finn muttered as he stomped across the bar, grabbed the glass, handed it to Puck with a "drink this," which was instantly accomplished, then took it back, rubbed its rim roughly with his shirt and threw it in Wes's direction. Wes caught it with a curse and a dirty look, and then started polishing it carefully where Puck's mouth had been while he murmured about "blasphemy" and "traitors."

Puck passed out the minute he hit the seat, but not before flashing the ten numbers he'd collected over the course of the night and crowing happily. Mike just curled up in one of the bucket seats with a "Thanks for driving," offered to Finn. Blaine buckled himself veeeerrry sloooowly into the front seat and started staring at the pretty streetlights flashing by while the alcohol continued its insidious creep into his bloodstream and brain.

"Hey man," Finn offered into the quiet of the car, seeing both Mike and Puck asleep in the backseat. "Maybe you should crash with me tonight. Kurt's probably, um…busy with the girls. It'd be a shame to interrupt them since they get to spend so little time together."

Blaine nodded, then smiled at the whirly effect it had on his brain. "Finn Hudson, you are scared of my Kurt. Terrified of little, sweet Kurtie-pie."

Finn shrugged. "I just think it'd be better to see him in the morning. It's rehearsal tomorrow, right? Kurt doesn't need any more stress."

Blaine smiled wide. "You are such… such a good brother. I didn't think you had it in you when we first met. You were so… scared."

"I was," Finn agreed sadly. "It sucks, too, because Kurt's the heart of my family. I was afraid of my own heart for so long."

Suddenly, Blaine began crying silently. Finn could see the big tears rolling down his cheeks in the flashes of light on the deserted highway. "Kurt's the heart of my family, too," he commented softly. "I was so jealous of him for having you and Burt and Carole when we were younger."

"No man, don't be ridiculous," Finn shifted. "Your mom is awesome, and I know your Dad is kind of, well, whatever, but you have us and all our friends…"

"Do you remember junior year of college," Blaine asked bleakly, and Finn winced at the memory.

"Dude, that was seriously screwed up."

"I have never felt so lonely in my entire life," Blaine whispered as the tears began to fall even faster. "I felt so wronged, and so lonely, and I knew. I KNEW that everyone was on Kurt's side, and it was the worst two months of my life. And even though I was so…so ANGRY at him, I missed him so terribly. I had no one—our college friends were through him, even David and Wes, I mean, they knew us together, and the New Directions kids were his friends first, so I left them alone. And I didn't even really mind. Because he is still the best thing that ever happened to me: nine years later, I can't even remember his name, but Kurt is just…"

"It was Liam," Finn said quietly. "You should have called me. You…I mean, I only got Kurt what, six months before I got you? I would have answered the call, Blaine. You don't even know how pissed I was at him. Christmas was…I was so mad at him for doing that to you. We barely spoke. Even Burt was, I don't know, he does that disappointed thing and it just kills you. I know Kurt regretted it the minute it happened, but it's still the worst thing I know about him."

Blaine's sobs got worse; Finn heard his breath shuddering in and out of his body, and at that moment, he regretted this bachelor party idea more than anything that's happened in his life, because he really never wanted to open this can of worms again.

"Blaine," he said as seriously as possible, while he turned right into Puck's neighborhood, "In a few minutes, the guys are gonna wake up, and this is going to be about the fact that you and Kurt are getting married, and we're happy for you guys. But you should know: you're my family, too. You and Kurt are a package deal. I love you just as much as I love Kurt, and you know that's a lot. No matter what happens—and I have to believe that you and Kurt are forever, I just have to—but you're my brother, too, and you can always, always call me. So just…remember that."

Blaine shuddered once and nodded. "Thank you. Really, thank you, Finn. I am so excited to marry your brother—but I'm excited to marry your family, too." He took a deep, gasping breath and shrugged his shoulders. "I'm just going to…is it ok if I pretend I'm asleep for awhile?"

"Yeah," Finn murmured. "That's fine, man."

Later, he carried the slight man into his apartment and settled him on the couch. As he pulled the afghan over his legs, Finn brushed curly hair out of his brother's face and thanked God—not Grilled Cheesus, not an imaginary, benevolent power, but the God he had just begun to believe in again—that he had given him two amazing brothers.


End file.
